


Main

by yeaka



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Open Relationships, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Aramis slips in after hours.
Relationships: Aramis | René d'Herblay/Porthos du Vallon
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Main

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Musketeers or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s half asleep, but his eyes fly open when the door slides ajar, because a musketeer can never afford to truly let their guard down. Porthos stills beneath the covers, feigning sleep, because surprise might give him the upper hand—and also he’s listening to the gait and weight of the footsteps. He thinks he can recognize them, though the perfume wafting in is unfamiliar. That in itself is nothing new. The mattress dips, and a shadow crosses over him through the relative darkness of his room. The curtains aren’t drawn completely, and there’s enough starlight to make out his lover’s face when he rolls over onto his back.

Aramis smiles down at him and bends to brush a kiss over his lips—Porthos opens for it, even though he’s been in bed long enough to taste awful. Aramis makes no complaint. He nudges his nose against Porthos’, mustache tickling Porthos’ cheek, and murmurs, “Hello.”

Porthos extracts one hand from beneath the covers. He reaches up to rifle through Aramis’ dark hair, brushing back the silky waves. There’s a smudge of rouge across his neck, though the stench of perfume was already enough evidence. Aramis tries to bend in for another kiss, but Porthos tightens his grip in Aramis’ hair and keeps him at bay. 

Porthos asks, “What women were you with this time?”

“Does it matter, when I come home to you?”

Porthos snorts. Maybe it shouldn’t. Aramis gives little pieces of his heart away all the time, but Porthos knows he holds the largest chunk. He knows he can never claim _all of it_ , not in the world they live in, not if either of them are to have a good life. Appearances must be kept up, and Aramis has too much love for one person anyway. 

Porthos still prefers when Aramis reeks of _him_ and nothing else. He likes when the hard grooves of his teeth and bruises from his bites litter Aramis’ pale throat, with no sign of any other hands. He runs his fingers back through Aramis’ thick hair and wonders if any of Aramis’ women know how much he likes to have it pulled.

That reminds Porthos of one point of difference, at least. None of Aramis’ fair maidens can fuck him as hard as Porthos can. 

Porthos would remind him of that, except it’s so late, and there’s no energy left for it. There’s just barely enough to lunge up and roll them both suddenly over. Tangled in the sheets, Porthos pins Aramis to the mattress. He presses down against Aramis so hard that Aramis gasps into his mouth and arches into his touch, hands all over his back. One strays down to Porthos’ ass, squeezing playfully, but Porthos rasps against his lips, “Not tonight.”

“You know I—” Porthos cuts Aramis off with a fiercer kiss. He knows what Aramis was going to say anyway. He believes it. When he finally lets Aramis’ abused lips go, Aramis still mutters, “adore you.”

Porthos snorts. He pecks Aramis’ cheek and rolls off, kicking the blankets back into place. Aramis helps arrange them over both of them. Even though Porthos’ feelings must be abundantly clear, Aramis looks at him for a long moment, as though unsure if his exploits have finally caught up to him.

They haven’t. Aramis is a man worth sharing. Porthos grumbles around a yawn, “Sleep, now. We’ll work this out in the morning.”

“Work this out?”

“I’ll run you so ragged Athos will think you’re screaming for your life.”

Aramis’ only answer is a grin. He snuggles up with Porthos, right where he belongs.


End file.
